Redolence
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
As empty as a bed without a man,
His warmth and hair, his shoulder and his thrust,
His smell and breath, that widened, spread thigh span,
Is what the lover wants. The absent must
Of armpit and exhausted central part
Once love lies slack, exhausted, that is what
Compels the solitude, loneliness, chart
Of desperation steep inside the gut.
The lover thinks of sin outside the bed.
Its stink and shapes and uproars too like
The ones this scrapped one knew. Inside the head
Abandoned, memory becomes a spike.
..Will lust come back? Would fervor matter if
….He comes? Full stench? “I’d settle for a whiff.”